Two shirtless men in a canoe rounded the bend drifting into a pool of still, deep water. The man in front sat precariously, not in his seat but on the very tip of the bow, beer in hand, facing his friend in the back. Tipping his head back, he took a long drink, then toppled backwards off the bow, vanishing into the water.

His unconcerned friend laughed harder. The canoe drifted off. The man did not resurface. We grew alarmed as his laughing friend drifted even farther away.

Suddenly, the water's calm surface exploded with the flailing arms and bobbing head of a desperate man, a man trying to climb a ladder that was not there, a wild-eyed man now fighting for his life. He went under a second time.

My mind flashed back. I too had tried to climb that ladder. As a small boy at a campground pool, I foolishly followed my older brother off the deep-end diving board. When I surfaced, my brother was far off. My arms and legs would not work. My head dipped beneath the water. Disbelief turned into panic. I flailed to no avail to keep my head above water. I sank a third time and, just before my next breath took in water instead of air, I felt a splash beside me. A strong arm wrapped around me and I was hefted out of the water and deposited poolside by a vigilant stranger.

The man resurfaced, jarring me from my memory. Just as I prepared to return the stranger's favor from my youth, his foot found the sloping river bottom. Step by jerky step, he

made his way to the bank. Once out, he collapsed onto his hands and knees coughing. River water and saliva oozed from his mouth in long dangling strands. His head hung limply from his heaving shoulders, mouth agape, panting as he took in breath.

When calm returned to his eyes and his reason was restored, he looked up at us --a man who moments ago was quite possibly one step, one toehold, away from death. He unsteadily rose to his feet, still shaken.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and forced a pained smile, then nodded to us before staggering off down river toward the sound of his friend's laughter.

The river was kind to fools this day and had given one back. He was lucky, just as I had been years ago.

Many aren't, though. In a heartbeat, Missouri's rivers and lakes can take a life. So stay safe. Wear a life vest and be ever-vigilant. Don't be a yahoo. The river may not be as kind next time.